


A Series of Completely Coincidental Happenings

by juste



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Other, TW- Suicide, just mentioned, not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 12:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13501758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juste/pseuds/juste
Summary: An excerpt from a novel I'm working on, featuring the dashing Laineybot.





	A Series of Completely Coincidental Happenings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laineybot](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Laineybot).



> A few things should be noted before you read my piece:  
> 1) The main character and narrator (Joss) is not necessarily male or female, however they are not neither or another gender. I have not yet determined whether they are male or female, but they are one of the two. It is up to the reader to decide which they want Joss to be. Or the reader may imagine Joss as any other gender, it will not really affect this excerpt in particular.  
> 2) Since this is set up like an excerpt, some of the characters and plot points mentioned are not important to this particular part of the story, so if at a point you are confused about a certain character, don't worry about it, just keep reading. It is probably not important.

A few years before I first met Dawn in Tennessee, I met a person who would change my life. For years and years I had struggled with sadness, but it had never been as bad. Suicidal thoughts became meals, I had them, morning, noon, evening, snacking on sadness and stuffing my mouth with the memories of the times before, and the fears of what was to come. On extra sad days, I wouldn’t eat any feelings at all, all I’d feel were the would’ve, could’ve, should’ves of yesterday and my future looked like an empty plate I did not want to fill with sadness or happiness, just numbness. I felt numb to everything around me, the sad happenings making me sad, the happy ones making me sadder until all I could feel were the stings in between. 

Gabriel called it depression. Sandy called it The Blues. I called it numbness. And I was okay with my numbness, until I was not, and when I was not, Gabriel took me to the ER. 

I sat and stared at the man who had finally called my name. He was pale, with sad eyes and a tired expression. I almost felt like asking him if he was thinking about suicide himself after a brief hello, but he went right into offense. His words were sharp and quick and dangerous. I knew how this went. If I told him how I felt, he would lock me up. If I said nothing, he’d do the same. His quick questioning barks told me he wasn’t exactly up for a conversation, so I did the latter, answering his questions with nods and shakes and yes’s and no’s until he decided I was to be admitted.

I counted down my 72 hours of hell by the minute, pacing and cursing, passing time by reading teen magazines with some intermittent crying spliced in throughout my stay. I haven’t been to a doctor or a hospital since then. Even when Rusty was born, I sat outside the hospital from the time Sandy checked in, to the time Gabe finally came out and told me he had been born three hours prior. 

Gabriel was not going to stand for me sitting at home moping, however, and decided it was time I found a counsellor and “stopped being so fucking sad.” Good advice, but I vetoed all of the brochures he brought for me from the clinic, because I had told him one thousand times I wasn’t going back to another doctor. A few days later, I found a number for a psychic a town over and gave it to him to call. For some reason, he did, and two days later I found myself walking into a mobile home in Springville with a neon sign in the window that said “PALM READINGS.”

“Joss!” The person in the building exclaimed as I walked in. 

I was confused, I hadn’t remembered Gabe telling them my name over the phone, but I had also not heard their entire conversation, so it was possible he had. 

“I’m Lainey.” They reached out a hand like they were going to shake mine, but when I offered it they yanked my hand and started inspecting my palm. I yelped, they didn’t seem to notice.

“Are you gay?” They asked. We hadn’t even sat down yet, the door to the building was still opened, I had barely walked in the door. I thought what they had asked was a question, but it didn’t seem like they were looking for an answer, so I didn’t. 

While they stood, inspecting my hand, I glanced around the tiny room, trying to figure out what was going on here. It looked how you would expect a psychic’s shoppe to look, complete with a crystal ball. But things were a little off. For starters, everything was bright. All of the colours were pastels, the windows were wide open, and the walls were painted cotton candy pink. 

Lainey was dressed in robes, like a Hogwarts student might wear except in pastel pinks and purples. They had a mood ring on every finger, but the rings were all different colours and were changing constantly. Their eyeliner was sharp and crisp, but their indigo hair seemed to go every which way, like a contained kind of crazy. I took in their features like a musician taking in a piece. I wanted to close my eyes and breathe in their aura, but before I could do anything creepy, Lainey had already come to their conclusions.

“So you’re depressed. You’re lonely, you want more. But you’re afraid you’ll hurt the ones you love. You keep so many secrets I can’t seem to keep them straight, one second I see you’re gay, another I see you’re running out of time, another I see you keep a stash of candy under the sink to snack on at night. I know how you feel, it’s hard to be yourself. I kept so many secrets, for such a long time, until one day I realized I didn’t want to do that anymore.”

“Okay, so Lainey, what do you suppose I do?”

“Well, you’re young, you have options. I have a few things that might help you. Katalongilide is great for depression, but it won’t help with the secrets.” They gestured to a flask filled with pastel blue liquid on a shelf. “A good old-fashioned truth serum may help with the secrets, but combine the two and you may see some side effects. Forella can help if you’d prefer to not be gay, although I’d never recommend it, because it is known to cause an irrational fear of dogs. Those patients never come back, because Dobs over here,” they pointed to a sleeping dog lying in the hall, “is clearly a terrifying beast. But none of these can help you with your only problem, you’re lost. How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“See, you’re young! It’s hard to find yourself, believe me, I know, but the only way you can do it is by losing everything you think you know. Starting with, you’re not straight. Can I kiss you?”

“Uh, sure.”

Lainey took a short step closer to me and draped their arms around my neck, pulling me closer to them and placing a small, chaste kiss on my lips. Up close, they smelled like cotton candy and their hands felt soft on my cheeks. 

“I’m going to call my friend Jai, they will be at this address tonight at 7pm. Be there. They’re going to drive to San Francisco tomorrow morning, you can spend the night in their car. San Francisco is where you’re going to find yourself, Joss, but first you have to get really fucking lost. Write a note to Gabriel telling him you’re leaving Utah, that’s all he’ll need to know. He’ll ask me for more information, I’ll tell him what he wants to hear. Tye, you look like a Tye, call yourself Tye when you get there. I’ll stay in contact. I’ll know where you are. Have fun, dear. Don’t get hurt.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my piece! I hope you pick me, Lainey!


End file.
